Of Enemies and Liquor
by Amledo
Summary: The morning after. Batman and the Joker spent a night getting drunk instead of fighting. What happens? Well 'm' because of drunkeness and potential slash. No longer a one-shot.
1. Of Enemies and Liquor

(A/N: Well here I am again. Slashyness and OOC behavior. I love playing with Batman/Joker. The clown obsessing over the Bat, come on! Ok, story time, here we go.)

Of Enemies and Liquor

The burning sky above made his eyes hurt and he squinted against the powerful light of the blinding sun. No part of him even wanted to be awake that day, he had a massive hangover and everything, from the sun to the noise of traffic made his skull want to bleed. Why had he agreed to the madman's deal? Neither of them were feeling well, and it had been a mistake they could not find a way to rectify. He stood beside him, utterly silent, both of them still in their clothes from the night before, sleep clinging pitifully to their eyes, fogging their minds.

They could have slept another several hours, and but for being rudely awakened, they would have done just that. Silent, confused as to what to do, the pair glanced at one another, the previous night not coming back to either of them. It had to be something horrid though. Both of them were sporting a number of new bruises and cuts, and they ached, as if they had spent the entire night fighting. They knew they hadn't though; they remembered a few large bottles of whiskey and at one point shot glasses thrown against the wall.

All that they really knew was that the activities of the previous night had been bad enough to get them thrown out on the doorstep. Bruce was morbid, his eyes still aching and swollen. Alfred, Tim and Dick had been furious. Of course that was perfectly understandable. No one expects to go into Batman's room and see him entangled in the arms of the Joker. But it was his house. How could they throw him out of his own house?

"This. Is your fault," the Joker stated flatly after a long moment, a low groan to his voice as he plastered his hand over his eyes. The gem bright green orbs were hidden from Bruce's gaze, but he knew they were bloodshot and full of the confusion that Bruce himself felt.

"You, as I recall, were the one with the wonderful idea to drink our way through our disagreement. I have no clue what happened," Bruce said, deflecting the fact that he had indeed accepted the idea. But was it so wrong to want to spend one night drinking rather than prowling the streets of Gotham and getting stabbed? He was only a man, and though he tried, he did his best to be the ideal; he did have his moments of weakness.

"That I don't know. You—ha ha ha ha you were drunk before me. Such a light-weight Batsy, I remember that one," the Joker said, his hands finally at the task of fixing his long snarled hair. He hadn't brushed it since the day before, and clearly a night of drunken exploits and less than stellar sleep was not the best thing for the mop of green.

"I don't usually drink. I admit that. But there has to be a reason. I mean, you got over biting me a few months ago," Bruce said delicately, extending his arm to show the angry clown the swollen bite marks surrounded by bruises of the brightest purple. To his great surprise those delicate, currently bare hands traced over the wounds, the Joker's eyes following the marks up towards the Billionaire's neck. In his mind there was a flash of painful reminder, drunkenly, though with great passion, biting his way up Bruce's body. He remembered biting the muscular neck and leaning up, staring into impassioned brown eyes.

"I did, at least…I stopped doing it to hurt you. But this isn't the point. You were the one that took the mask off! You broke the rules! This is your fault," the Joker said, rapidly drawing his mind away from thoughts he did not want to have. He stared away from Bruce, his eyes going everywhere but the vigilante, he could not face him, could not dredge up the memories. It made him sick. So why hadn't he left?

"You didn't seem to mind, wiped the paint away and giggled like a little girl about it. You got it all over my sheets," Bruce lamented, his eyes cast up toward the blinding light of the sky. He regretted it, and as they ventured around the back of Wayne Manner, where the pool was located, he gave up and vomited gracelessly into the bushes. To his surprise, once again, the Joker put his hands on Bruce's shoulders and helped him to walk the rest of the way to the pool. They sat next to the large blue expanse of water, bare feet in the coolness. Neither of them had received their shoes or socks in leaving.

"Brucey, I think I remember something," the Joker sing-songed in a gentle tone, still filled with laughter, though obviously adjusted to the hangover sensitivity. Bruce glanced over, watching the smaller man twist his hands together, obviously uncomfortable with the thoughts. No wonder he had covered it with playfulness. The Joker didn't like being on unsteady ground; he relied on having the upper hand, on outwitting his opponent. Something had thrown him off enough to make him fidgety.

"Do you really?" Bruce asked, shrugging out of his tank top and shirking the loose sweatpants he wore. He was going to have a swim, and hopefully succeed in ridding himself of the hangover haze. But he kept his eyes on the Joker even as he slid into the cool embrace of the water, feeling his muscles tense slightly with the pain of chlorine stinging in the bite wounds. The pale man wore a strange smile, not the one forced there by insanity, but what Bruce could only describe as polite.

"I do. I remember your eyes. I remember—we wanted each other," the Joker lifted his eyes and met Bruce's gaze. He would not shy away from the truth; he would not be the one getting hurt. But he was confused by the way Bruce looked at him. His eyes had gone soft, confused, but gentle. It seemed that he understood, at the very least he was going to take his word for it.

"Did we? I mean if you remember…" Bruce wasn't blushing, he was serious. His face was calm but concerned as he continued to tread water. It wouldn't be the first time that he didn't remember making love to someone. But to not remember being with the Joker, he liked to believe that he wasn't that soused.

The Joker just stared, wondering at the question. Why did Bruce sound so hopeful? They were enemies. Hell, why were they still hanging out? It made no sense. But he considered the billionaire's face, and cast his mind back, trying to remember. He didn't know what to say, but he was going to leave the man hanging, at least long enough for him to get in the pool as well. It seemed like a really good idea, he hurt like nobody's business and he had hopes that they pool would ease that pain. Silent for the moment they swam for awhile, allowing some of the hangover to drift away.

"I think we were too drunk. But I remember…" the Joker trailed off and wrapped his arms around Bruce's shoulders, pressing his lips against the older man's mouth. The kiss was not returned, but he realized that it was because Bruce was struggling to stay afloat. Slowly the billionaire maneuvered them to the shallow end of the pool, where they wouldn't drown if one of them forgot what they were doing.

"I'm starting to remember a little of it myself," Bruce said, his fingers running down the Joker's toned torso before he pressed a soft kiss to the clown's lips. "Yeah, I think I remember that," the vigilante breathed softly.

"I…Brucey…what…" the Joker couldn't find words. He was so confused, and having those arms around him was driving him mad. Part of him imagined that a few years back, before Harley moved to Metropolis, she may have felt the same way about him. But his Queen of Hearts was happily playing normal, teaching psychology to high school kids. All the Clown Prince had was the Batman, and he couldn't stop kissing the vigilante. The whiskey had either been his best idea or the worst thing he'd ever dreamed up.

(A/N: Well there it is folks. I'm glad you read it, review if you like. Want a second chapter?)


	2. ActionReaction

(A/N: Well I had been on the fence about a second chapter, but here it is everyone. I don't own Batman, please don't sue me. If I fudge it a little on ages or any distinguishing features just remember that in comic book world everything is subject to change. Oh and there's no lemon, I mean sure hinting, but otherwise, none. Ah, who cares on with the show.)

Of Enemies and Liquor: 2 Action/Reaction

The blazing glare of the sun got easier to handle, and the hangovers began to fade, at least they mattered less. Bruce was wholly invested in the younger man tangled around him, their lips tingling and swollen from almost violent kisses. It didn't matter so much anymore that they had been thrown out of the house, it didn't matter that they were enemies, all that mattered was quenching the fire of desire in their hearts. Love, was a very distant concept to both of their hearts, but they understood that they had strayed into its gaze. And neither of them cared what anyone thought of it.

The Joker whimpered weakly as they splayed out in the shade of a large umbrella, his eyes closed against the sun, painful reminder of the hangover that it was. Turning he stared at his companion's face, Bruce Wayne was Batman, and who could have guessed? But if his lover was the most powerful man in Gotham City, what did that make him? Obviously it meant nothing if Bruce wanted it to mean nothing, but the Joker didn't think he could accept that. Sure, both of them were well known for using and losing lovers, it just seemed like something was different between them. Perhaps it was the long history as enemies, or the utter calm with which they laid together, but ending the relationship was the furthest thing from either of their minds.

"Joker?" Bruce's voice was tense, though the attempt at compassion was clearly there. Softly, in response to the question, the Joker turned on his side and lifted his body with his elbows, looking into Bruce's eyes, searching for an answer. It was very rarely that he was at a loss for words but the vigilante had managed that feat quite well. Closing his eyes the Clown Prince bowed his head and rested it lightly on his partner's chest, sighing in relief when he felt Bruce's arms close delicately around him. Strange that normally the Dark Knight would have hurled him against the wall, yet the billionaire treated him like a piece of china, fragile as glass and weak as a bubble about to burst.

"You think we should try to get inside? We are never going to recover if we don't get some water," Joker said at last, his eyes meeting Bruce's for a long moment. Those soft brown orbs darkened for a moment, and instinctively the Joker recoiled, he'd been struck far too many times to not at least flinch away from expected pain. Normally he wouldn't have made the move but being so hung over and in so much pain he wasn't ready for more. But Bruce pulled him close; kissing him softly to assure him that harm was not his intent as they shifted to a sitting position. They had been outside for a few hours, time for a couple bouts of lovemaking and some serious discussion as to the future and a few times even touching on the nature of their relationship.

"It's my house. I'm not going to let them keep us out," Bruce said determinedly and began to pull his clothes on. His boxers were still soaked from the swim in the pool and the Joker's were probably busy clogging the filter, but that didn't matter. They were going to get in that house if it took all day, and he refused to listen if any of his companions tried to talk him out of his relationship. Bruce pulled the Joker close for a moment, hugging the smaller man (if only by a few inches) as close as he could without hurting what he knew to be damaged ribs. With a soft sigh the Joker cuddled against his lover's chest, it was okay with him, being submissive in the relationship; after all, the only thing he had ever wanted was his Batsy's attention. It made him happier, knowing that he had such a strong hold over the billionaire that there was genuine concern displayed in those brown eyes.

"They couldn't possibly pull me away from you. You know that sweetheart," the Joker said, a glint of his old self seeping back in to his booze abused mind, the dark humor following shortly. Yet standing beside Bruce made no difference, Joker or not, he was a man in love, and that made you do really strange things. He allowed Bruce to hold his hand, to walk him up to the glass paneled doors at the back of the mansion, even enjoyed the heat of his partner's nervous grip. It was something that the two of them were in together, love couldn't come from just one person, as his mind caught on to that, the Joker resolved to write Harley a long apology letter. Staying close to his lover the Clown Prince stared around the house that he so frequently contemplate holding for ransom, wouldn't have done much good would it?

"Bruce?" Dick questioned quietly as his eyes caught sight of his mentor, they hadn't expected him to bring the Joker back in with him. The expression that Bruce wore told him just how angry his former master was, and he didn't like it one bit. But he couldn't be serious, a relationship with the Joker? Had the Bat finally addled Bruce's brain to the point of forgetting that Jason was dead because of the Clown? What excuse could there possibly be for loving the twisted monster that called itself the Clown Prince of Gotham? Was the Joker blackmailing him?

"It is still me Dick, whether the three of you want to believe it or not. If you can't accept it, you can go back to New York," Bruce said, all things considered he was being as nice as possible about the situation. After all, he hadn't said or done anything when Dick came home and almost immediately began flirting with Tim, never said a word about the fact that they were lovers long before Tim's 18th birthday. Bruce felt that he deserved a little respect, after all he was edging in on 50 and he'd been sacrificing himself more than half his life, he wanted to be selfish damn it.

"It's not that Bruce, you know we'd support you any other time…"

"But nothing is ever going to change the fact that I'm the Joker, no matter what my face looks like, how I act, I'm the Joker," the clown filled in quietly, not morbid or cruel, just plain and calm. He knew who he was, knew that he scared the hell out of the 25 year old in front of him, the 18 year old that was hiding somewhere around a corner, and the Butler that didn't care to be seen. The Joker softly touched Bruce's face, being as pleasant as he could about the situation; he pulled the billionaire in for a kiss, just to let him know that he understood.

"I wish that you were wrong. I want to see Bruce happy as much as Tim or Alfred, this just isn't what we pictured," Dick said in a measured tone, Bruce could tell that he was trying to sound peaceable. It wasn't what he wanted, but he did want love, and there wasn't really any other way that he saw to getting it.

(A/N: Well, now it seems this is going to be longer than I thought. Stick around for the next chapter and so you all remember, reviews are love.)


	3. In the End

(A/N: Sorry that it has been so long since I updated my internet is bad and my drive to keep writing is lagging. I can't believe how many people like my Batman stories and it helps me to keep going. I still don't own it; I don't want to because I would mess it up. This is probably going to be the last chapter in this series. Love you guys and sorry it took so long to get this out.)

Of Enemies and Liquor 3: In the End

6 months later

Bruce let out a contented sigh as he woke up, the pale morning sunlight just touching his eyelids, not as harsh as it had been that day so long ago. But the body in his arms was no less comfortable, no less important to his heart. Softly, he rolled to his side, pressing himself closer to the warmth of the Joker's slender frame. He opened his eyes and smiled, his pale faced lover was still sleeping soundly, and it was nice to always have him close by. Hands still heavy with sleep he brushed the long green hair out of his partner's eyes, just contemplating all the pain they went through to reach such a point in their lives.

"Mmm Brucey, morning," the Joker commented in a sleep-filled drawl, his jewel bright green eyes smiling as they fixed on Bruce. Leaning forward he kissed the billionaire softly on the lips, glad just to be in his company. It meant all the world to him that Bruce had fought for him, and truly it had changed his life to have fallen in love. Though neither of them was done with their alter egos and nighttime battles, they were fought less and less until the Joker jumped ship and became Batman's partner. So even though Tim and Dick were rarely showing their faces, Gotham was just as safe as it had once been.

"Morning, you sleep well?" Bruce asked calmly, his forehead pressed against the Joker's, a small smile on his lips. When he received a sleepy little nod he pulled the other man closer, they had been busy last night dealing with Scarecrow but had still gotten back before 3am. It was good news because it was just a few days before Christmas and Bruce Wayne was due for some charity events. The Joker would be beside him the whole time, disguised quite easily as Bruce's committed partner Jack Napier.

"Master Bruce? Master Jack?" the soft voice of Alfred sounded through the door; if he wasn't knocking it was probably because breakfast was too big to be handled with a single tray. Bruce got up and moved across the room, bare feet trying to stick to the throw rugs when the marble proved too cold on the soles of his feet. Thankfully Alfred didn't mind the scruffy look, or that Bruce had not bothered to stop his bleeding before putting on his pajama pants. The butler observed the hasty bandage work and knew it to belong to his master's partner. Neither of them were the best of medics and he thought he saw an equally poor attempt of patching up done on the Joker's left side.

"Thanks for breakfast Alfred," Joker breathed and slid out of bed, his pajama legs rumpled and rolled up towards his knees from a night of kicking in his sleep. He had never gotten used to the idea of breakfast being brought to him or really of eating every day. Sitting at the little table with Bruce he allowed Alfred to look at the wound they had bandaged last night, the butler didn't seem happy with its condition.

"Neither of you are suited to this, I keep telling you to call me if you are hurt," the aged man chastised softly, heading to a drawer in Bruce's desk. They'd always kept medical supplies nearby as a matter of course.

"Not if you are sleeping," Bruce groaned as the man that had taken care of him since his childhood tore off a taped section of gauze a little too quickly, he probably deserved that. He felt Alfred with the topical anesthetic and sighed when the pain temporarily vanished, it didn't matter that he was going to have more stitches, he no longer had to worry over women seeing his body. Flashing a smile at the Joker Bruce began to eat once again, ignoring the small stings of the needle piercing his flesh and drawing it back together. When fresh bandage was taped over it he felt relieved, yet pained as he had to watch his partner endure the same torture.

"This could have been worse, and then would you have called me? Or would you just have bled out?" Alfred demanded and Joker hissed as he pressed the new gauze to the stitched wound before taping it down firmly.

"I get it, I get it…we'll call you," Joker whimpered, caving in to what he knew the butler wanted. He smirked at the satisfied look on Alfred's face and made himself eat the remainder of the breakfast he hadn't been expecting. Bruce seemed to have consented to the agreement as well, his head down and a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Good, now you both need to be ready in an hour and a half, you are serving food at a soup kitchen," Alfred reminded and strode over to the wardrobe, plucking appropriate clothes for Bruce and Jack. He didn't care much that things had changed, and as long as Bruce wasn't dating a mass murderer anymore, he would continue to stand by his side. Perhaps he should have warned the pair that Tim and Dick had decided to give coming back a try, but he thought it would be much more amusing to watch the drama unfold downstairs.

Everything had gotten much easier since Bruce's drunken escapade all those months ago, and with Batman's strongest enemy becoming his strongest ally, well life had found a way to work things out. Alfred would never question why Bruce had taken that chance and fallen in love, it wasn't his place, but maybe, just maybe the occasional bottle of whiskey didn't hurt.

(A/N: Okay, that is the end of it, there may be a sequel but this is all I have thought of. So good bye for now and reviews are love. Sorry if this wasn't up to par…)


	4. NOTE

A/N: I know that I shouldn't really do this. But for those of you that liked this fic I thought I should let you know that the sequel is going to be up soon. Like a few minutes after I post this. It's sort of short, but it gets my point across. And for all of you that have reviewed and favorite and alerted and all that good stuff, I love you! For whatever reason you seem to like my Batman fics and I couldn't be more appreciative of that fact. So I hope you enjoy the next bit of this fic and can't wait to write you some more. Have a wonderful day everyone. The sequel is called 'What Started over Alcohol'!


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